At Freedom's Edge
by DarkPhoenix83
Summary: Modern A/U, SanSan. Sandor is on the lamb, escaping the ire of his brother Gregor. A freak mechanical failure on his motorcycle lands him in the small town of Winterfell, in nowhere Colorado. Sandor will have to face up to his past, his demons and the enchanting redhead with her own mountains to climb. They will learn that true freedom means coming to the edge together. Lemons!
1. In the Middle of Fuck All

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

 **Note:** Hi all! Yeah I know I shouldn't start another story before I finish one, but that's just how my mind works :-p This story comes from some amazing SanSan modern A/U I've been reading on the forum. Really really great stuff, that I will not be able to compare myself too. However, it did inspire me to come up with this story. In the end I hope to capture here what I feel the SanSan pairing is always about, no matter what time or place it is set. That is, two unlikely people finding love and friendship - and saving themselves from one another. He saving her from the people or things that seek to take away her honor and what is rightfully hers. She saving him from himself.

This story is really just a light, fun-loving, funny kind of story. I've made Sansa more modern and flirty, Sandor kind of stays the same as he is usually portrayed. I hope you like it, and if not...at least I tried. Lemons later on...much later on.

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 **Chapter 1: In the Middle of Fuck All**

Sandor Clegane breathed in the fresh northern air as he pressed his Harley onward. He loved the feeling of the warm sun on his face and the wind blowing through his long hair, it gave a man a sense of freedom, even if he knew deep down he was anything but free. He was on the run, not staying in any one place too long, trying to shake his brother Gregor off his trail. It had been a year, most normal men would have given up, taken the losses and moved on. Not his brother though, Gregor wouldn't stop until he beat the shit out of his younger brother and got his money back, none of which would happen easily if Sandor had anything to do with it.

Despite their colorful and contentious past, the two brothers had run an import and trade business in Houston together. Sandor keeping the books going and the workers happy, while Gregor worked as the enforcer. His talents lying more in making sure customers paid up for importing whatever they wanted to bring to the harbor. In the many years they were in business together Sandor had seen just about everything, ten tonnes of Zippers, three containers of rubber chickens, lobsters - if you had a market for it, the Cleganes could get it through customs and to its destination on time. They always worked on the edge of what was legal, that made it fun and profitable. It was when he discovered that Gregor had begun to traffic women and boys, some as young as ten years old, that they had words.

Fists flew, words were said and in the end Sandor left, but not before taking two million of the company's capital he'd worked so hard for. He had control of the books after all, which meant he took the money, got on his bike and drove as far as he could from Gregor and his thugs. Sandor would have no part in human trafficking, but he also wouldn't snitch on his brother either. Things like that got around in their business, he'd never find work again if he were to be known as a snitch, but the guilt of what Gregor was doing to these people ate him up inside. He carried that guilt with him, and it weighed him down, suffocating him in the night.

The sound of clanging metal, a loud pop and something flying from his bike were enough to draw his attention from his own pain. His Harley came to a rolling stop, leaving a trail of motor oil and smoke behind it.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" He cursed as put the kickstand down and got off his bike to see what was going on. He didn't have to be a mechanic to know it wasn't good, and that he wasn't going anywhere until it was fixed. He punched the dash, leaving a dent and screamed, his voice echoing in the nothingness of nature that surrounded him. It had been hours since he passed a town with a service shop, so better to move forward.

Then a sign a few yards down the forest road caught his eye, "Winterfell 3 Miles" he mouthed to himself. He unhooked his black leather side bags from his large bike and flung them over his shoulder. They carried what little possessions he had, and he'd be damned if some fucking bear ate them while he sorted this mess. Sandor's cowboy boots dragged across the gravel of the road's shoulder as he made his way in the direction of the town. He prayed to whatever gods might listen that the town would have a mechanic, because he was in the middle of fuck all.

* * *

Winterfell was a small place of 300 people, nestled in a beautiful forest with some mountains in the background. As pretty as a picture and about as remote as one could get. Remote was good, it meant Gregor's thugs wouldn't find him, it meant that perhaps he could rest for the first while in a long while. He didn't have to cross the city limits to see a service station right there on the side of the road. It was a cute place, in a kind of 1950's style that would have been out of place anywhere else but here.

Despite the open door and the desk fan blowing on the chair, there was nobody at the main entrance. Anybody or thing could have walked up, grabbed all the money in the register and the motor oil in the shelves and walked out. But this was a small town, shit like that didn't happen here. Big bad men like him didn't come to these places, they would breeze through on to bigger and better things. Sandor snorted to himself and made his way back to the garage area of the service station hoping to find somebody around.

As the smell of motor oil filled his nostrils and country music filled his ears, Sandor couldn't help but grin a bit at the place. There were car parts strewn all over, some old some new and some junk. It was a mishmash of things that you found in a little shop that had to service anything that came its way. Orderly but messy all at the same time, he liked it. He made his way to the sound of ratcheting, drawing him deeper into the working space. Once there he found an old Buick station wagon with a pair of slender feminine legs poking out from under it. Her boots were black, her jeans tight around her supple thighs, her white shirt riding up, exposing her creamy belly to his eyes.

' _Probably a lesbian.'_ He thought to himself. All female mechanics he had met had either been gay, ugly or both.

Sandor didn't have too much time to admire her body before she spoke, sticking her hand out from the car, "Well don't just stand there. Hand me that 3 and ¼ inch wrench before you go wandering off again."

Smirking slightly, Sandor moved to take the wrench from the bench it was on and passing it to the impatient hand motioning him to bring it to her. She clearly didn't know who she was talking to, but she had a cute voice and Sandor wasn't much for words. No need to disturb her while she was working.

He heard her strain a bit to tighten some final bolts on the car's chassis, "You know Bran, you can't just keep wandering off anytime you want to sit under that big oak tree and daydream. I know mom is buried there and all, but it's just not…."

The woman stopped mid sentence once she'd wheeled herself out from under the car and finally laid eyes on the man towering over her. Sandor watched her expression turn from surprise to curiosity as she sat up, grabbing a towel to wipe off her greasy hands. She was certainly not what he had imagined would be under the engine of that car, her eyes a piercing blue, skin creamy white, nice perky tits barely contained in her dirty white tank top and red hair. Long swirling beautiful red hair. It left Sandor dumbstruck and leaning more toward his lesbian theory than before.

"I thought you were my brother." She began, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. "My name is Sansa, Sansa Stark. I own this place. I'm the mechanic, the accountant, do the bodywork - you name it." She grinned widely and extended him a clean hand. "And you?"

She wasn't looking at his scars, and this surprised Sandor. Usually pretty women didn't give him the time of day. If they did, usually they were either trying not to look at his burned face or staring far too much for anyone's comfort. He knew he was a freak show, it just hurt more when a gal he fancied couldn't take her eyes off him for all the wrong reasons. This girl was different, she was sizing him up, eyeing him and with a smile that made him think she kind of liked him.

Clearly he had waited far too long to answer her as she bridged the gap between them, hand still extended and took a closer look at the name sewn into his leather vest. "So you are Hound, oh wait The Hound." She said reading the words verbatim. "Is that the name your momma gave you?" She looked teasingly apprehensive.

The Hound weighed his options and decided just his first name would be fine. If word got out, he might be in for some trouble. "I'm Sandor." He settled on, taking her small hand into his and giving it a firm shake.

The redhead smiled and nodded. "You aren't from around these parts, are ya?"

"What gave that away?" Sandor asked in his typical cocky fashion, "My accent?" He did still have a slight accent from the UK, kept enough to make himself stand out but not too much so that the Americans couldn't understand him.

"No." She answered with an appraising look, which started at his feet, lingered at his waistline and ended on his face, "They don't make tall drinks of water like you up here." With that she turned and walked toward one of her workbenches, keen to put some of her tools away. "What can I help you with Sandor? Or did you come to answer your true calling of handing me tools all day?"

With her back turned Sandor stifled a laugh. He liked his women firey and this Sansa certainly was all that and more. ' _She's got to be a fucking psycho.'_ he thought to himself. Normal women didn't flirt with him and certainly beautiful women avoided him at all costs. As if his ugliness was contagious. Yeah, something wasn't right with this girl.

Stifling the urge to make an off hand comment on handing her the tool he had between his legs, he began, "My bike broke down about 3 miles outside of town. I need to get it fixed as soon as possible."

"Let me guess," she said without turning her head from her work, "A Harley Dyna Wide Glide, red flames painted on and some custom work." She turned to see what his response would be.

"How the fuck did you know that?"

"Clearly you aren't from around these parts." She said again with a smile. "I love bikes and you have good taste."

Sansa finished cleaning up her workbench and turned to Sandor, her blue eyes dancing with the prospect of fixing his bike. "So, how bad is bad?"

"Uh well dead you know. Ejected something from the engine, motor oil leaking, smoke …" he trailed off.

She raised an eyebrow, "So really bad." Then she looked around the garage as if searching for something in particular, but Sandor wasn't sure what.

She didn't let the silence settle too long, "Alright then, take these," she threw him some workers gloves and grabbed a pair for herself, "Let's pick it up and take a look at it then. Lucky for you I'm also the tow truck driver."

Sandor dropped his side bags on the floor in the garage and followed his sexy new companion out to her little flatbed tow truck. No matter which way he cut it, he couldn't help but feel like something wasn't quite right. Not that she wasn't genuine or had a prostitution business on the side kind of strange, it was something else. She didn't ask him many questions about his personal life, didn't pry on their short ride outside of the city. People who didn't pry usually have something to hide themselves. Sandor mulled over these thoughts in his head as they drove.

' _This is going to be a few interesting days in fuck all Colorado.'_ He grinned to himself.


	2. No Angel

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned something, but I don't. Just having fun with some exceptional characters.

 **Note** : Thanks for the comments and reviews. I hope you like where the story is going. As I said it's going to be a drama with some light fun things. Enjoy!

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 **Chapter 2: No Angel**

Sansa couldn't believe what she was doing as she drove the Hound and his big muscle bike back to her garage. Most everybody she knew would have described her as a bit on the shy side, even a little prude. So what was she doing flirting like that with a complete stranger? ' _What is he going to think of me?'_ she wondered to herself as glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

There was something about him that she liked, something that ignited a fire in her that other men had not before. As she'd rolled out from under that Buick and looked up at the towering hunk of man standing over her, her heart lept out of her chest. He was strong with a good build. His tight jeans had hugged his little butt, the biceps on his bare arms dared anybody to test his strength, and most of all he seemed kind. You wouldn't think that at first glance, with half his face all scarred up, the leather biker vest he wore and his big leather boots. Perhaps it was the way he let her talk, or the slight grin he'd crack when she teased him. He certainly had a face only a mother could love, but that didn't bother Sansa much. She'd dated beautiful men, slept with beautiful men...and found them all focused on one thing - being beautiful.

Who was she kidding anyway? She probably wasn't his type and besides, he was just blowing through town. What was the point in trying if he'd be gone in a couple of days.

"Just lower the bed down and I'll take it off the truck." Sandor told her as she brought her truck to a stop.

Sansa lowered the bed and watched the giant of a man lift his bike off of it. ' _He's certainly got some nice muscles.'_ she mused as he brought to motorcycle to her.

"Thanks." She said, "Put it here just in case I need to raise if off the ground a bit." With that she grabbed her flashlight and began her investigation. She started as she always did, looked in the wheel wells and at the breaks before she took a closer look at the engine.

"By the wear here I can tell you like to ride her hard." Sansa looked out from the motorcycle just in time to see Sandor crack a cheeky grin. "Some girls like that." She continued, "But in a year or so you are gonna have to replace the shocks."

Now she was abundantly aware that Sandor was observing her. Not in that creepy sexy way, but with a curiosity that made her flush in the cheeks and chest, which was kind of where his eyes had wandered to.

Sansa took a peek inside the engine, unscrewing parts of the body so she could get a better view inside. "Well you weren't kidding when you said a piece flew off. Come here a sec, let me show you how bad it is."

As Sandor came over and bent down close to her their shoulders touched, sending an electric pulse through her body. ' _If touching him gets me hot, I'm one sad girl. Has it been really that long since I had a man?'_ It probably had.

"Look here." She started, "The bolt here came loose and was propelled through here and here. Exiting your bike and leaving you stranded. The problem is I can't just replace the damaged parts and the bolt, I have to rebuild part of the engine."

She watched Sandor take a closer look, pushing his finger deeper into the engine to investigate the problem on his own. "So how much is that gonna set me back?" He asked, turning his eyes to Sansa's.

"Well, first of all I don't keep those kinds of parts here. So I'll need to order everything from Boulder, which will take about a week. Then I need about 3 or 4 days to rebuild it."

He nodded, clearly not out of sorts that it would take a while.

"It's not going to be cheap." She said searching his eyes for a hint as to how much he would be willing to pay. "I guess about 4K including labor. It's a beautiful bike, but the parts cost...I cost." she winked, not knowing again what had gotten into her. ' _He's going to think I'm a prostitute for sure.'_

"Fuck." Was the only word that escaped his mouth as he ran his fingers through his long hair and turned away from her. "Let me guess, you only take cash?"

"Yeah." She said. "Okay so if you aren't good for it we can try it another way."

At this he turned to her, waiting to see what she had to say.

Almost nervously Sansa pushed her index fingers together and looked toward the garage floor. "Well you know I do have some work around here that I'd been putting off because…" she trailed off a bit trying to find the right word, "...because I need a big guy like you to help me with it."

At this Sandor threw his head back and laughed. "You gonna have me chopping firewood for you little bird? Your brother can't help you around here?"

She shook her head, her smile fading a bit. "No, when you see him you'll understand." Realizing she'd just brought the conversation down to a personal and darker level she continued, smile renewed, "I've got some things you can do around here to work off your debt, then all you'd owe me is 2K."

He seemed to consider something a moment before answering, "Well seems like I'm not going anywhere anyway. So sure, I'll help ya out around here."

"Good." She said, looking forward to spending a bit more time with this hunk of a stranger that had wandered into her life. She handed him a broom, "You can start by sweeping up while I order the parts." Her cheeky grin dared him to defy her.

With a gruff snort and a grin Sandor snatched the broom out of her hands. "Is there a hotel around here?" He asked as she turned and started walking toward the office.

"Yeah. About 100 miles from here." She said never turning around. "But you can stay at mine."

"Ain't your boyfriend gonna be mad?" he shot back, clearly testing the waters a bit.

That was when she turned to look him in the face, "Gave up men a while back sweetheart. And no, I'm not a lesbian."

"I didn't say shit!" He retorted.

"No, but you were thinking it." Sansa grinned, knowing she was right.

He shook his head, "How much is it going to cost me?" he yelled out to her as she made her way closer to the office.

"Tall handsome strangers with kick ass motorcycles stay for free." She yelled, never once turning around.

"How do you know I'm trust worthy little bird?" He shouted back.

"I don't." She said, unlocking the office door and then shutting it firmly behind her.

Sansa leaned against the door and exhaled deeply. Was she really so desperate to get out of this place that she'd bring a stranger into her home? He was right to raise the question of trust, did she care so little for her own safety that she didn't care if he raped or and stole all her money? After mom and dad had died she had never really been the same, and after what happened two weeks ago, she'd be happy to have a big man around her house a bit. Sansa hated to admit that she needed some protection, needed somebody around to help her forget the pain and to keep the boogeyman at bay. She'd been no angel in her lifetime, but she'd try to do right by her parents and her siblings. Sansa had tried her hand at many things to keep her family afloat, but the walls were closing in.

"Perhaps this Hound, can help me out of this mess." She said as she picked up the phone and dialed her parts dealer in Boulder.


	3. A Comfortable Closeness

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, only the setting and the interaction.

Note: Now it's time to ramp up a bit the sexy description and to start putting our characters into more compromising positions. I'm also setting the scene for the next couple of chapters. In a few chapters I'm sure our protagonists won't be able to resist one another. ;-) Enjoy!

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 **Chapter 3: A Comfortable Closeness**

Sandor helped Sansa close up the garage, took his things and followed her down a tiny trail behind the place that lead to her home. Along the way he toyed with the idea of what he might find there. ' _Some sort of crazy shrine to all her ex-boyfriends? An overly feminine man-hating nest? A dark room where the cocks of all the men she had slept hung on the walls?'_ he laughed at this last thought, as he watched her sway that cute ass in front of him, guiding him through a tiny wood, past a small detached garage and toward the back door of a large two story house. There was a wooden porch around the place, a garden with a doghouse, and a long dirt road that must have been the driveway to the main road.

Once inside Sandor wasn't surprised that it was a comfortable place with a rustic feel. Hunting trophies lined the walls with a huge fireplace and comfy sofa, the pictures that decorated the walls gave the impression of happy times, perhaps of times long past. The red-headed woman in the photos must have been her mother, they had the same smile and hair. She was always smiling, usually with her arms around another person, which could have been Sansa or any one of her, what he presumed to be, several siblings. Sandor knew she was dead, had known that from the time they had met. ' _Such a big family house for one.'_ he mused. ' _Must be fucking lonely.'_

Sansa lead him down a small hallway on the first floor and stopped in front of the first door on the left, "You can take Rob's room." She opened the door so he could go inside and inspect it for himself. It was a large room with a bed in the corner, a desk and photos of pinups and motorcycles everywhere. If Sandor had to venture a guess, he'd say Rob would have been about 17 or so, a teen on the cusp of manhood. The bed was big and long enough so that his feet wouldn't hang off the edges, but far too clean to belong to the boy the personal effects in the room spoke of. When he turned toward his host, he saw her leaning against the doorframe, a melancholy look on her face, her arms crossed tensely against her body. It wasn't the right time to ask questions, Sandor simply nodded in acceptance of the room and dropped his bags on the floor near the bed.

At this her face lit up. "Come here, I wanna show you something." Sansa lead him back through the house, past the kitchen and out the back door they had come through to the garage.

' _Now she's going to show me her man corpse collection'_ Sandor teased himself as she unlocked the garage and turned on the lights.

"Most people probably wouldn't care so much." She started, pulling off the tarp from a head of something on the side of the old messy garage. "But a man who rides a Harley like that, might enjoy this too." She smirked as the final bits of cloth fell away from a 1960 Triumph Bonneville. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, it was in really good condition.

As he approached the bike she spoke, "My daddy started restoring it from a lump of rusted nothing a couple of years back. Then I took over." She had her hands stuck in her pockets, almost in a shy way watching him eye her pride and joy.

The Hound ran his hands over the body of the motorcycle and took in the beauty of it. He could have lived a thousand years and never found a woman like this, one who shared this love of bikes like he did. One with a cute arse, a beautiful face and a talent for fixing things. "She's a real beaut." he said looking deep into Sansa's ice blue eyes. He wondered if she could tell he was really talking about her, he could have given a shit less about the bike. The flush that ran across her cheeks hinted that perhaps she did.

"I'm getting her ready for a road trip." Sansa said.

"Where are you headed?" he asked, finally turning his attention away from her reflection in the motorcycle.

"Don't know yet." She began, a bit uneasy with the question. "Just somewhere away from here." She finished as she covered the bike and brought him back to her house.

"I guess you must be pretty tired from your travels." She said leading him back to Rob's room. "The shower is here." She pointed to the door across from his. "There are towels in there and everything you would need to settle in." Her eyes met his and Sandor couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking as she examined him.

"I've only got strawberry shampoo and cucumber shower gel." She said with a cheeky grin, "I hope you don't mind."

"I always considered myself a coconut bath scrub kind of guy, but I guess I can settle." He said with a straight face, feeling his heart race as he drew a hearty laugh from her beautify lips.

"I'll remember that." She grinned. "Take your time, I'll fire up the grill and put some steaks on. You'll find beer in the fridge and me on the porch." She winked and disappeared back to the kitchen, her hips swaying in a way that made it hard for Sandor to cover up the fact that he liked her. He glared at the growing bulge in his pants as he entered the bathroom and dug out a towel.

Sandor started the water and stripped off his clothes. It had been a while since he'd had a good hot shower. He'd been either sleeping rough or crashing in cheap motels with no warm water along the way. A couple of days here would recharge his batteries, would give him the will to keep going, keep away from the wrath of Gregor.

' _Gregor.'_ Just the thought of him brought Sandor back to the night he opened a huge red shipping container on their docks in Houston. He'd been on call that night and had come as soon as their men had said it had arrived. As usual he grabbed the documents for the container, read them and knew immediately that something wasn't right. Despite the complaints of the men he went down and opened the container, not waiting for his brother to show up onsite. What he saw there would haunt him. Perhaps 70 - 100 women, girls and boys. Stuffed into a container, the stench was horrific, the pleading of these poor people for help rang in his ears. Sandor balled his fists as the warm water ran over his body. It was unforgivable what his brother was doing and he'd be damned to be a part of it.

He opened the cucumber shower gel and immediately shifted his thoughts to his extremely beautiful and intoxicating hostess, Sansa. He ran his hands over his body thinking of her smile and her wit. She liked to tease him and didn't shy away from his appearance. That was odd, but then again, there was something odd about her. Her mother was dead, that much he knew. One brother was a dreamer or a half-wit, the other he wasn't sure...and the father. There was also another girl in the photos on the walls of the house, a sister perhaps? Sandor couldn't say he knew what was going on, but he also knew when something wasn't right. ' _Perhaps she can stomach my face, because she feels like that on the inside. Ugly, disfigured and not worth anybody's time…'_

Taking a moment to ponder this profound thought, Sandor smiled then turned his attention to his pulsating member. Resting one hand on the wall and placing his other around his engorged cock, he began to think about her beautiful smile. Then he began to imagine how he could make that smile bigger by teasing her with his head, slipping it between her folds and past her clit. He wanted to see her eyes beg him for more, hear his name escaped her throat. Sandor wanted to hold her, please her, make her fall apart in his arms. He moaned loudly as he released into the running water of the shower. He breathed deeply and rinsed himself off once more before shutting off the water.

His head against the tile Sandor enjoyed his moment of satisfaction, before it became clear to him that something was happening outside the house. He hadn't heard it before because of the water but now, when it was silent, he heard two people fighting. Once voice was clearly Sansa's the other, a man's he could not place. ' _Now it gets a little interesting.'_ he mused to himself as he grabbed the nearest towel. Sandor shook his head when he realized that the towel was just wide enough to wrap around his waist, but not wide enough cover everything completely. This left a huge slit on the side, reaching from the bottom of the towel, that only came to his mid thigh anyway, up to his hip. ' _Fucking great.'_ he thought as he opened the bathroom door so that the voices would become clearer.

"I've already told you Joffery, no! Get off my property, we are not talking about this now." Sansa's voice was strained and angry.

"Oh come on sweet thing. You know you'll have to give in sooner or later. It's mine whether you admit it or not." The voice of the man gave Sandor the feeling that he was a sniveling spoiled brat, about 5 ft. 8in blonde and as smooth as a Ken doll. He made his way slowly down the hall and turned toward the main door, where all the commotion was coming from. Sansa stood in the doorway, her back to Sandor, blocking any view of the little prick standing outside. Her body was tense, angry and perhaps even a bit scared. He'd have to diffuse the situation one way or another.

"What in the hell are you talking about?" She yelled, not hearing the big man in a towel walking up behind her. "This is all mine, we've been over this 1000 times Joff. Over my dead bo…" Sansa paused when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and the strong tug of a man pulling her close to him.

"I heard some yelling little bird, sounds like there's a little prick out here with sand in his mangina." A smirk flew across Sandor's scarred face as he saw the prissy young man in front of him and he knew he had sized him up correctly. This Joffery guy was nothing but a sniveling excuse for boy, trying to be a man but failing in a catastrophic way. What Sandor hadn't expected was how easily Sans fell in line with the whole charade, running her hand up his hairy chest and kissing him playfully on the lips. Happy he'd relieved most of his tension in the shower, he took a moment to taste her sweet lips. They were honey in his mouth and tender on his tongue.

When she did finally end the kiss she had a naughty little smirk on her face, the kind that made a man weak in the knees. "I thought you were going to enjoy your shower pumpkin. Joff was just leaving actually." She turned to the stunned young man in front of her.

"So you can't have me, so now you're dating Quasimodo?" The young man spat with anger. "Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?"

Sandor had taken in the situation and saw his two big 'friends' sitting in the car and knew this was a bit more than an angry ex spat. ' _The boy has goons, and brings them to threaten her?'_ Sandor pondered this a moment as he decided his next move.

"Don't make me get the shotgun." Sansa warned, trembling a bit in Sandor's arms. "I have every right to shoot you, especially after what you did to my dog, after you killed Lady."

"She attacked me you bitch." He screamed, with a sort of hot headed rage that reminded Sandor of his older brother.

"You were…" Sansa began before Sandor stepped in.

He knew how to handle men who thought they were alpha dogs, stepping in front of Sansa, puffing up to his full size, straining the towel that threatened to fall from his waist. "I suggest you and your friends leave now, before I rearrange your face." Sandor's threat was low, only for the three of them to hear.

"Don't look over at your friends. By the time they make it here, you'll be as pretty as me I assure you." Sandor warned, muscles tensed and veins pumping.

The boy considered something for a moment then turned and left. Sandor could hear Sansa sigh in relief as he turned to her, worry lines on her face. "Thanks." She said cupping the scarred side of his face in one hand, "I wish I could say that I would have handled that better on my own, but I'm not sure. You didn't have to…"

"What was that?" Sandor interjected.

"My ex. There's a lot of bad blood now, and..." Sansa just shook her head and looked down at the floor.

Sandor grabbed her gently around the shoulders and took her chin in his hand, "How about you tell me all about it over dinner?"

She searched his eyes for something, Sandor couldn't be sure for what, then that huge grin came across her face again. "That sounds fine. But change out of that towel otherwise I'm not going to be able to take you seriously."

HIs confused look spurred her on, "I can't tell a story when I'm wondering what's under that little thing the whole time." She said with a wink and a cheeky grin.

"Aye." He said as he eyes lingered on hers. For as much as he wanted to just drop the towel and let her explore all she wanted, Sandor wasn't that kind of man. He'd never been aggressive or forward with women he didn't pay for. Perhaps it was his looks, he didn't want to scare a woman off or get in an odd situation, so he always waited her her to make the first move. He prayed to any god that would listen, hoping that Sansa wasn't just all talk - that she had some action behind those long hungry stares and her cute flirtatious words as he went back to Rob's room to put on some fresh jeans and a T-Shirt.

* * *

It was nice to sit at a dinner table with an actual home cooked meal. It was even better to share it with the young lady in front of him. But Sandor's mind wasn't on the steak and salad in front of him, it was with his red-headed host.

"Well, my daddy and Joff's daddy were the best of friends. They served in the military together, then bought up a bunch of land and business around here. They made money and life was good." She took a swig of her beer before continuing, "As we grew up, our daddies were thrilled that Joff and I were attracted to one another and had started dating."

Sandor nodded, wondering how she could ever love a creep like that. "Long story short, Joffrey's father died under some strange circumstances. That meant that all the joint properties him and my daddy owned together, were now all in question. There was no will, no succession and so Joff jumped in with lawyers and did all that he could through legal and illegal means to get the business and lands from my dad. Shops would suddenly burndown, crops would be destroyed and legal challenges to our ownership were happening." Sansa paused slightly, letting her emotions quiet down, "So finally daddy drove south to Joff's ranch to talk with him about what was going on. He believed he was a good guy, as I did. He hoped for a gentlemen's resolution on the whole issue."

She was tearing up now, Sandor knew something big was about to be revealed, "We don't know what happened to this day. Only that there was an argument and daddy died in a car accident." She inhaled deeply, "It was just so odd, it would have never happened to him. They say the breaks went out in his car, but I knew he kept that car in perfect condition. There would have been no reason to think otherwise."

"You think he did it?" Sandor said, addressing the elephant in the room.

Tears rolled down Sansa's face, "I don't know for sure, but I know he had something to do with it. My sister Arya is so sure, she ran for sheriff a year back and won. Now she is doing her own investigation any chance she gets." Sansa looked toward Sandor, her blue eyes filled with sadness, "It destroyed our family. My mother committed suicide, Rob overdosed on drugs…I guess we all handle grief differently. Bran disconnected from the world so now it's me and my sister doing what we can for the family."

The pictures on the wall were a testament to how happy the family had been, Sandor could only feel sorry for Sansa. He had never had a family like hers, loving and caring. There had only been hate and pain, he carried this with him because all his life he had to. She carried this with her too, even though it had not been her true destiny.

"And what happened with your dog?" Sandor asked.

"Well he came shoving fake papers in my face, trying to get me to give up the service station and garage. Things got out of hand and Lady bit him."

Sandor could tell she was some of the more important parts out. Reaching across the table and resting his hand on her wrist he said, "Did he lay a hand on you?" It was clear, and direct.

Sansa closed her eyes in pain, turning them away from Sandor's. She simply nodded.

"Well don't you worry. If he comes around here again, he'll have to deal with me." Her eyes met his in this moment, he could see the appreciation and relief in them.

"Thank you Sandor." She said quietly. He could tell she hated crying, that she didn't want to show weakness. He found it rather refreshing, that somebody who had been a complete stranger only a few hours before, could be baring her heart to him now. Giving him an insight and comfortable closeness he had not been able to have with other people.

They picked up the dishes in silence and said goodnight. In Rob's room Sandor stripped off this clothes leaving just his tight fitting speedo cut briefs on for bed.

"Sandor here's another blanket if you need something warmer…" he knew she was standing in the door frame without having to turn around. She'd stopped mid sentence and was staring at him, with a kind of enticed surprise he had not experienced before. Her eyes took in the curves of his body, the lines of his muscles, the side bulge that was apparent in underwear like that.

"Thanks." He began, "Something strike your fancy little bird?" It was a half playful and half a serious question. Sandor willed her to bridge the gap between them, push him on the bed and ride him has hard as he did his motorcycle. When she didn't respond he just grinned. "Good night." Was all that passed his lips as he made his way under the covers.

It didn't take long for him to find a comfortable position and slowly drift off into sleep, wondering what the fuck he had gotten himself into.


	4. Sunday Night Fights

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, just putting some crazy ideas to paper.

Note: I've had to get around some weird stuff in the website, seems the uploading of new stories isn't working at the moment. So I have ingeniously modified an existing document with the new chapter. I hope this gets cleared up in the future.

This chapter has really been another study in dialogue for me. That is something many of my stories have been lacking over the years and I hope that this story becomes instrumental in making it better. Comments, reviews and points for improvement from YOU are always welcome. It's been difficult lately but I'm trying to update every ongoing story I have...which is like four. The positive for this little snippet is that I already know the progression and the ending :-) Up next, some more sexual tension building!

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Sunday Night Fights**

It had been more difficult to get to sleep the night before than Sansa had expected. She hadn't been able to shake the picture of Sandor's nearly naked body from her mind, but if she had to be honest with herself she didn't want to. His long hair had been tied up in a loose bun, with a few renegade whisps hanging down to his shoulders. His body was big and defined, with almost every muscle in his back curving, dipping or bulging depending on its use. Sandor had been less hairy than she had expected, despite his rather odd nickname of the Hound. His chest was covered with a well kept uniform brown hair that made its way down his abs and into his…well. Sansa flushed when she thought of where her eyes had rested for an abnormally long amount of time. The bulge between his legs had demanded her attention, it was large even on a man of his size and she couldn't deny that it made her flush and hot under the collar. Even now, while she prepared a few things for breakfast, she squeezed her thighs together to deaden the growing desire there. She'd never given much thought to what she wanted physically in a man, Joff had been the only guy she had ever messed around with. He certainly hadn't been built like Sandor, and he certainly didn't have the kind of 'equipment' that Sandor had. She bit her lip and quickly got back to what she was doing, having heard her houseguest stirr in the hallway.

"Good morning." Sansa said, not turning around when the door to the kitchen opened. She heard a slight grumble of something and knew immediately that the Hound was not a morning person.

A cup of coffee in hand she turned to greet him. He was sitting at the kitchen bar, his hair pulled back, in a black T-Shirt and with a gaze that would have indicated he'd found heaven. Raising an eyebrow in question Sansa set the coffee down in front of him.

"Girl, if you wear those kinds of things around me, I don't know if I'm going to be able to contain myself." Came the rough raspy voice of somebody who had just woken up.

A laugh escaped Sansa's lips as she realized what she had on, a pair of ¾ cheeky satin underwear in emerald green and a satin camisole in a rust color. She'd worn them on purpose of course, she just hadn't reckoned he'd comment on it so quickly.

"It's my house, I'm happy to take the risk." She eyed him as she said it, trying to discern how serious he was. "You keep wearing your little speedos to bed, and I'm not sure I'll be able to contain myself."

He was considering something, but what she couldn't sure. Her guest had not anticipated that comment from her, so they were even for now. Before she could turn back to the stove, and before anything witty could escape the Hound's lips the back door to the kitchen swung open to reveal the brusk, nonsense form of her little sister, Arya.

"I can't stay long, just a cup of coffee and I'm off." Arya announced, clearly not realizing she and her sister were not alone. The short, brown haired young woman wore a sheriff's uniform, badge, radios, guns - serious business.

"Oh that's too bad, I made enough batter for three people." Sansa said, realizing only now that Arya had seen the big dark stranger seated at her kitchen bar.

The young woman had stopped mid stride, her teeth still sunk into an apple she'd grabbed from the fruit bowl on the counter. Her big eyes took the strange man in, not sure whether to shoot him, greet him or say nothing. She decided to greet him, in a manner of speaking, "Who the fuck is this? Did I interrupt something?" She said not taking her eyes off of Sandor but clearly talking to her sister.

"Good fucking morning to you too." Sandor said, not changing his expression. Sipping his coffee in wait for her response.

"He's staying with me till I get his bike fixed. You could learn to be a bit more respectful when you meet somebody for the first time." Sansa chided her sister. "His name is Sandor."

Arya looked at the big man and took a step closer to him, clearly protective of her sister, "So where are you from?"

From the way she asked and the look she gave, Sandor knew she was in police mode. He hated the police, not only because he had always operated just outside of the law, but also because he found them stupid and useless. Impotent to get anything done quickly and efficiently, that was why there were men like him in the world.

Putting both his hands on his mug he answered, "If you're gonna arrest me for eating pancakes in your sister's house, then get on with it already. Otherwise, drop the fucking bad cop act, before I get angry."

The little firecracker of a sheriff glared at him a moment, her eyes searching him for lies and deceit.

"Arya." Sansa said, putting her hand on her sister's shoulder, "Sandor helped get Joff to get off my porch yesterday. He can be trusted."

It was clear the law woman still didn't like Sandor's presence, but there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She turned to her sister and continued as if he weren't there, "We're still trying to get that restraining order for that cunt Joff. But he's got friends….I'm working on it."

Sansa smiled, handed her sister a cup of coffee and turned back the stove pouring some batter into the pan. "Did Bran sleep at yours last night? I checked his room and he didn't come back here."

"Yeah, he's passed out on the couch. I'd give him today to rest and he'll be back at the service station come Monday morning."

Sansa merely nodded, flipped some pancakes and continued, "What's stealing you away from me this Sunday morning?"

"Aside from ugly over there?"Arya said, thrown a glare at the big man at the kitchen bar. The Hound matched her look, doing what he could to quell his anger.

"Arya!" Sansa yelled throwing her sister an exasperated look.

"There's been some trouble a couple of towns over. Seems like some out of towners shot up a bar, big fucking mess." The little sheriff downed her coffee in one final gulp and gave her big sister a hug. "I'm outta here. Will I see you tonight?"

"Oh at the cattle auction?" Sansa turned and eyed Sandor a moment, "Yeah we'll be there."

"We?" Arya looked betrayed as she glared at Sandor. He merely gave her a self satisfied smile and shifted his eyes to the door.

Narrowing her eyes at him then turning, Arya blew her sister a quick kiss. She then looked over her shoulder, sent Sandor the evil eye and vanished out the front door of the house in flash.

Dropping a heaping plate of pancakes in front of her guest Sansa said, "She's rough around the edges, but you'll get used to her."

At that Sandor only snorted, "She talks like that, and she's lival to bite off more than she can chew."

"She might be small," Sansa said, her back to Sandor, "But there's more to her than meets the eye."

"Umm Hum." Sandor nodded, more interested in his food than striking up a conversation about the pint sized sheriff.

Some moments passed between them in silence before Sansa started up the conversation again, "So I uh...hope I wasn't being too forward by suggestion you come with me to the cattle auction tonight."

Sandor could tell by her voice alone that she was a bit nervous, but about what he couldn't be sure. She could get any man she wanted just by flashing a smile and shaking that full ass of hers. _'Why is she so insecure?'_ he wondered as he chewed up the last bit of the food on his plate.

"Well I guess I ain't got anything better to do." He sighed, "And because you spoke for me anyway, seems like I don't have much of a choice."

His grin signaled he was teasing her a bit and Sansa jumped at his acceptance of the invitation. She was almost as giddy as a schoolgirl, "Great! So we'll get to look at the cows and go to the dance…"

"Wait there's a dance?" He interrupted her, now a little less sure he wanted to go meet half the town.

"Oh come on." She pleaded, giving him those big blue bedroom eyes. "Besides you'll be with me anyway."

An unsure look passed from the Hound to Sansa, and it was met with a smirk that could only indicate she knew something he didn't. Sandor rolled his eyes to himself, not sure what he had agreed to, but knowing he was damned happy to be the center of her attention.

* * *

She wore a light blue cowboy shirt tied into a crop top, the color blue that not only matched her eyes but accentuated her soft light colored skin. Her jeans were so tight you could have forgiven her for almost any transgression. Sandor liked the way they rode up her ass, dividing her cute cheeks into two ample handfuls of well rounded woman. Sansa was the kind of woman who could give a jealous man heart failure, and a possessive man reason to come to her house and demand she come back to him. Sandor couldn't believe that little prick of a boy had had his fill of the stunning lady in front of him, but he did know a woman like that could drive any man to madness, or killing...or worse.

Sandor pondered this a moment as Sansa threw him a smile to where he sat comfortably on her overstuffed sofa. He instantly regretted wearing his tight jeans tonight, seeing as just watching her cross the room to grab her truck keys had an effect on him. She seemed to like his choice of pants though, leaving her eye linger on them as he stood up to follow her over to the truck.

The town of Winterfell itself was small. Sure it had a few mini-marts, a gas station or two and so on, but it was dead. Like the life of the town had been squeezed from it and this was what was left. Something dark and lifeless, a once thriving place on the brink of collapse. Sandor wondered how much of this had to do with Sansa's family. He'd seen lots of photos and awards throughout the house, her father must have been pretty damned important around here, certainly he was well loved. This whole business with Joffrey and land must have turned the place upside down. Sandor felt a pang of sadness for his date, as they pulled up to the fairgrounds just outside the town.

It was hoping to say the least, all sorts of truck and motorcycles parked out there with music playing. ' _At least there still seems to be a hope for life.'_ Sandor thought as the bouncing redhead took him by the hand.

"Come on, let's see the prize cattle first." She grabbed him by the hand and took him into the stall area.

She did have a way to brighten a man's day despite his inner workings or fears, Sandor was happy for that. He needed a distraction from himself and Gregor.

From the moment they stepped foot inside the building it was clear that Sansa was well known in this town. Almost every man, woman and child knew her, greeted her or made an effort to say something to her. People looked at him too, some in that typical way he was ready for. With apprehension, disgust and anxiety. Other's though shook his hand, introduced themselves and never batted an eye. '

"Now look at that bull, he's won best in show." Sansa pointed to a huge bull with red and white speckling, standing in the pen with a mean look to it. She hoisted herself up on one of the railings to look over the fence unobstructed, she was about a head taller than Sandor now.

"Isn't he something?" She said turning to him and brushing his abs with her butt.

Sandor moved a bit closer behind her, eager to push their little game of chicken further. "I don't know much about bulls." He could feel her hips and ass on his body now, feel her soft fingertips on his neck as she put her hand on him to focus his attention.

"Well you see, they do it based on a lot of different things. For example, look at how muscular and fit he is. Bulls have to be strong if they are going to be the leader of the herd." She pointed the muscles out by rubbing her left hand across Sandor's shoulders and pointing with her right hand.

"Uh huh." Sandor replied as he closed the gap with her a little more, putting his hand on her hip and bringing her into him even more.

"And also there." She said, "I mean look at those balls. What kind of cow could say no to a full package like that."

She reddened a little bit when she said it. Sandor grinned to himself.

"I didn't know cows and women were so similar." He threw her a dry smile, making her reden even deeper. Taking this opportunity he picked her up from the fence where she had been perched, both hands on her hips and slowly brought her back down to earth, making sure their bodies touched as he lowered her down. Feeling her body drag across his had to be the best sensation he'd felt in a long while, and by the sheepish grin on her face for Sansa too.

"Come on," she said resting her hands on his chest, "there's so much you need to see."

There was a lot Sandor needed to see and none of it had to do with cows.

* * *

"Let me grab a beer and then we'll see." Sandor said, watching Sansa's face droop slightly in disappointment. They'd arrived at the dreaded dance part of the evening, where all of the locals socialized, drank and danced. Dancing wasn't something Sandor did, nor had any intention of doing it here. His eyes ran over Sansa's backside for good measure, then he went to grab a Miller.

Something didn't sit right with Sandor, his sixth sense had kicked in but he couldn't put a finger on what was out of place. People were friendly enough, but there was something behind it all. If he didn't know better, he'd think there was some kind of civil war going on here. With those who supported Sansa on one side, those supporting her prick of an Ex on the other. There had been a hint of crazy in the boy's eye. When normal life-loving men were threatened by Sandor they typically had the good sense to tremble, even shit themselves, and run. Joff on the other hand, had considered something and didn't show anything on the standard spectrum of fear. That didn't sit well with Sandor.

"Hey there brother." Came a voice from behind Sandor, a beer dropped in front of him. "I saw you from across the way and thought we should get to know each other better."

Sandor turned his head to see a redheaded man with a beard sit down next to him. He lifted an eyebrow in apprehension. "What was it? My ravishing good looks?"

"No man, it was your cock." At that the red haired man let out a hearty laugh and clinked his beer on Sandor's. "Tormund is my name."

Sandor took a sip of his beer and said nothing. ' _The last thing I need is curious fucking locals.'_

"I saw you walk in with Sansa." Tormund continued.

At this the Hound turned his head, ready to run his fist through his ginger face depending on where the conversation went.

"She's my sister you know."

"Seven fucking hells." Sandor shook his head with in an exasperated voice. "How many fucking siblings does the girl have?"

"Well my sister in gingerness, we're all related somehow." Tormund smirked, clearly enjoying leading Sandor's mind on a chase.

"Get to the fucking point will you?" Sandor continued, his arms crossed against his large chest.

"Well...just so you know, brother to brother." The redheaded man leaned in closer. "If you are just having fun with her then have fun, but don't hurt her. There could be consequences." At that the man's ice blue eyes settled on Sandor, the boysteresness gone.

"Now I'm getting threats from her brother by another fucking mother? What a joke." Sandor spat as he took another swig of his beer.

"I'm also the deputy sheriff around here." The man leaned in, "Off duty of course." A satisfied grin on his face, he patted Sandor on the back.

The Hound rolled his eyes and turned his head to look at Sansa on the dance floor. Her hips moving to the beat, her hair bouncing off her shoulders, accentuating her smile.

"Did half-pint Sheriff put you up to this?" Sandor said finally, his voice gruffer.

Tormund feigned surprise, "Well of course not. Just a concerned citizen here."

"It's that cunt of an ex-boyfriend you should be trying to threaten, not me."

"Amen to that brother." Tormund clinked Sandor's beer bottle again. "Now get your big ass out there and dance this slow song with her for fuck's sake."

Sandor hesitated a moment, "I'll hold your beer sweetheart." Tormund teased and pointed to the lonely redhead on the dance floor.

' _The things I do for a pretty face.'_ Sandor thought as he went to meet Sansa. Her smile was almost worth his humiliation, as she put her arms around his neck and rested her head on his chest. His hands were low on her waist, pushing her flush against him as they swayed.

She smelled like that fucking cucumber shit she had in her bathroom, that somehow made her bath gel more palatable. She adjusted her head on his chest looking up at him and raising up on her toes. Sandor leaned in so that her lips had a better chance of capturing his.

"Well lookie what we have here. A dancing gorilla with my girl." Came an all too familiar voice from behind Sandor, making him turn before his lips touched Sansa's. It was that cunt of a boy Joff, and he had brought two of his big beefy friends with him.

Sandor glared at Joffrey as he set his eyes upon his two opponents, pushing Sansa behind him. "Which one of you ladies wants the first piece?" he taunted, holding his hands out in front of him palms turned out.

The ugly mullet wearing one to his left attacked first with a haymaker. ' _Idiot.'_ Sandor thought as he blocked it with his left hand, stepping toward his opponent and punching him square in the face. A satisfying crunch escaping the man's nose. Keeping his hands up in a boxing stance, the Hound turned toward the second man to his right, they squared off. They sized each other up a second before Sandor moved in, his face jab blocked but his cross to the ribs landing.

Hearing something behind him, the Hound ducked just in time for a pool cue to miss his head and strike his second opponent square in the temple. The big ugly motherfucker held the cue in shock for a second, until Sandor planted a punch square in his stomach. Doubling over from the force of Sandor's punch and loosening his grip on the cue, the Hound snatched it out of his hands, breaking it over his knee and throwing it to the side. He had no intention of putting anybody in the hospital tonight, not in front of Sansa anyway.

He turned his attention to Sansa, who had her back to him and was arguing with that prick of an Ex. Joff had her by the wrist and they were yelling at each other of the the music and the sounds of his goons.

"Get your hands off her." Sandor snarled, coming up fast on the pair.

The blonde idiot had his eyes opened wide in mock fear at the sight of Sandor's approach. Sansa turned toward her protector with a smile that then quickly contorted into a scream.

"Sandor, behind you!" Were the last words to escape her lips.

The Hound was able to turn his head enough to see a flash of metal, then hear a huge 'stonk' jolt through his head. He went to the ground before he felt another hit, this time in his ribs. Sandor fought the darkness coming over him, heard the screaming of Sansa's voice, heard the commotion of people moving around and yelling before it all turned black.

* * *

The blue and red of the ambulance lights took turns casting a shadow on Sansa's face while she sat on its bumper, wrapped in a blanket and waiting for the EMTs to take a closer look at Sandor.

"Now tell me how it happened again, from the top." Tormund asked, notepad in hand.

Without looking at him she spoke, "You were there, you saw the whole thing. That's how it happened, exactly as you saw it." She wanted to leave, she wanted Sandor back at her place where she could look after him. Not answering ridiculous questions that weren't going to bring her anything.

Tormund shook his, "Yeah I saw it alright. Looked like they already knew each other though."

' _Damn your prying.'_ Sansa thought. "Yeah, they had words previously. Joff came to my house and threatened me. Sandor made sure he left. Nothing else other than words were exchanged." She looked over at the ginger man and added, "When is that restraining order coming in? This is getting ridiculous."

"We're working on it." He said, noting some things.

"Where is my sister? Where's Arya? She was supposed to be here tonight."

"We had some issues down south again. Some folks got shot up." The deputy eyed Sansa a moment before continuing, "How much do you know about this guy? How well do you know Sandor?"

Sansa shot him an afronted look, "Why?"

He searched a moment for the right words, "Look I'm not supposed to say anything about… you know, on going investigations. But, all this trouble we've been having lately have been coming from some big ugly guys. One of them...well let's just say they could be brothers."

Sansa's eyes were locked with Tormund's, she didn't know what to say.

He continued, "I mean, shit, they are almost the same kind of ugly. What are the chances of that?" He meant it to be a joke but some rage flushed across Sansa's face.

"Look." Tormund continued, losing his funny guy act. "These guys are from Texas and they are looking for someone. Someone they are ready to kill to find."

Sansa's mind flashed back to Sandor's bike and the license plate, ' _Texas.'_ That didn't mean anything in and of itself, but it could.

Before she could say anything the door of the ambulance swung open, "Are you his girlfriend?" Came the question from the EMT.

"Yeah." Sansa said, with the hopes of getting him home. "How is he?"

The EMT looked at her in disbelief for a brief moment before continuing, " Well that man of yours is built like a tank. Usually you would expect to see a skull fracture or something after a hit like that. As it stands, he's got a concussion and a bruised rib. There's no swelling on the brain so he can go home, but if he deteriorates, bring him to the hospital immediately."

Sansa smiled and nodded, ready to take him home and put the whole thing behind her. "Here let me help." Tormund said as several EMTs supported Sandor out of the ambulance and to Tormund's car.

You almost needed three people to steady the giant of man, who was staring out with a concussed blank stare.

It was just a short drive to Sansa's house, where the two gingers helped Sandor inside. "Bring him to my bedroom." Sansa said to Tormund, who have her a surprised and almost jealous look.

"That's it, just ease him on the bed here." They put the brut of a man down on her bed. He seemed to be coming to a bit, turning his head and studying the room with an almost over accentuated acueity.

"Are you sure I don't need to stay?" Tormund said, stealing a glance back to the Hound.

"No no, I can handle him." Sansa said, exhausted and ready for the day to end.

"Alright then. But if you need anything just call. I'm only…"

"...a few minutes up the road, I know." Sansa finished. "You've only been telling me that since elementary school." She smiled, giving the redheaded man a hug before sending him off.

Once alone in the house with Sandor, Sansa let out a sigh of relief. This thing with Joff was getting worse, he was keeping the town in a stranglehold and hurting all those close to her. At some point she was going to snap, or go crazy...or both. She kicked off her boots and went back into her bedroom, to see Sandor there eyes open and waiting for her.

"So I get a room upgrade." He said to her, his voice and the emptiness of his eyes still those of a man with a concussion.

"Yes sir you do." She smiled, looking down at the person who had now twice stuck up for her.

"I am no sir." He said still looking around the room.

"You may very well not be." Sansa began, "But you deserve more respect than you think." She began grabbing his boots and pulling them off.

"Oh ho! Most people have to pay for that." Sandor said, his eyes rolling around in his head as if he were slightly dizzy. He put his head back on her pillows, "But as long as you ride the shit out of me girl, you can do it for free."

Sansa stifled a laugh, showing only a cheeky grin to the man in her bed. ' _One day I will ride the shit out of you. Only when you can remember it.'_

"Come on big guy, let's get you ready for bed." Sansa smiled crawling over him, straddling his waist and unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes held hers for a moment and a flash of the man she had met came back for a moment, then he fell asleep.

Unbuttoning his shirt all the way, Sansa was able to wriggle it off of his body without having to lift his body or arms. She couldn't help but admire his body and take an unabashed look at his scars. They covered his chest and arms in a way that made Sansa ask herself where they had come from. She leaned over to look closer at his face. She could tell by how he turned his head and held himself that the facial scars bothered him. They isolated him from what might have been a normal life, turned him into a monster in the eyes of others. She ran her fingers over them, ' _What on earth happened to you?'_ she asked herself, before a snort and a bit of a snore escaped Sandor's mouth making her jump.

Laughing to herself, Sansa undid Sandor's belt and unbuttoned his jeans. She was able to pull them down over his butt before she had to stop and take in the sight before her. He was wearing the same cut of underwear as he had the night before, they were just in red now. Had that been the only thing that crossed her view, she could have perhaps handled it. As it was, she found herself looking at a rather large partial erection.

' _Come on Sansa,'_ she said to herself, ' _Don't be a creep.'_ But she couldn't stop looking. It was leaning on his left side slightly, straining through the fabric, pushing up toward his belly button and just beginning to break the plain of elastic that kept his underwear on his waist. She wasn't sure she'd even be able to put her thumb and forefinger around it, the girth was titillating, the length made her feel a pulsating in the pit of her loins. Sansa leaned over a bit and could see some skin color lifting the elastic band. Still in the straddle position over him, she sat back on his thighs and tried to shake this feeling off. She wanted to touch it, feel it, put it in her mouth and then ride it until she collapsed. She wanted to spoil this man, to please him. Sansa had never been able to please Joff, he had always made her feel inadequate. Sandor was different, he had awakened a new interest in men and sex in her that she had tried to push to the side for so long.

Shaking her head at the thought, Sansa quickly pulled his pants off and threw her quilt over the offending body part. She had always held back, always tried to do what others wanted of her. _'Would it be so bad to just, for once, go after what you want?'_ She wanted to show Sandor how she felt about him, even though they had only known one another for a short while.

There was no use in thinking about that anymore tonight. It was late, she had work in the morning and she was tired. Sansa stripped off her clothing quickly, leaving her thong on and pulling a white T-Shirt over her head. She wiggled into bed next to Sandor, covering herself with the same quilt. It wasn't long before a big arm wrapped itself around her, pulling her close. Smiling as she drifted toward sleep she draped a leg over his, feeling a strong sense of contentment that had been lacking as of late.


	5. Revenge is a Bitch

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, just loving my couch creation time!

 **Note:** This chapter is a short one, I just need to progress the story to its climax. Though I can promise you the next chapter is the sex chapter WHOOOOOT! :-) I know it's giving something away, but I think it was pretty obvious where this story would go between the two characters. Thanks for reading and please don't forget to leave a comment or show your appreciation with a fave or a follow. Cheers!

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Revenge is a Bitch**

Two things were immediately obvious when Sandor Clegane opened his eyes, that it was dark and that he did not know where the fuck he was. He inhaled deeply allowing time for his eyes to adjust and to get his bearings on the situation. Slowly the smell of synthetic cucumber entered his nostrils, the weight of another person became more noticeable on his body and a headache like no other tore through his skull.

"Fuck." Was the only fitting word he could think of to describe the situation.

His deep revelation prompted a stirr from the person next to him. A yawn escaped her mouth and she stretched, leaving warm patches across his bare legs.

"Sandor, is everything ok?" She was whispering, though he wasn't exactly sure why. Her hand was on his chest and her sexy little body dangerously bunched up against his.

He sat up quickly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and putting his head in his hands. He was in pain, but needed to keep in under control in front of her. A light clicked on behind him, bringing the room and a rather large morning wood into focus. Sandor quickly threw a blanket over himself before Sansa slid over to him, on her knees on the mattress beside him.

' _Well I couldn't have been injured too badly.'_ he thought to himself. But he couldn't remember certain parts of the evening.

"Just tell me what the fuck happened." His head was pounding, he was in no mood for chit chat.

"Ok." She began rubbing his back with one of her hands, "You...uh...took a tire iron in the head for me."

The Hound shook his head in disgust, he should have expected the little prick to not play fair. Memories of the night came flooding back to him.

"It's probably about the sweetest thing any man has ever done for me." She said with an uneasy chuckle.

"What kind of men have you been dating?" He asked, finally turning his head to face her. She smiled faintly, indicating she felt the same then looked away.

She continued, trying quickly to change the subject, "You were quite a professional out there. No one had ever seen anything quite like it. You have quite a fan club now as it seems, fighting against Baratheon supremacy and all that."

Sandor wondered if she was prying for something more. Either way he was in no mood to answer any questions, no now and not ever. Baratheon though, ' _The last name of that blonde headed little prick?_ '

It was clear that she wasn't going to get anything more out of him, "Look it's 4am. I've got to work in the morning. How about you make your way over to the shop if you feel well enough? You're not getting out of your promise." She smiled.

The Hound nodded slightly, not wanting to jar his head more than he needed.

"Oh and uh…" she started.

"Don't." Sandor said simply. "There's no need."

She was confused but didn't challenge his request. Of all things he deserved a 'Thank You.' Sansa nodded, and crawled back to her side of the bed.

A hard swallow went through Sandor's throat as he caught a glimpse of that great ass of hers moving to the other side of the bed. The gods were either torturing him or rewarding him, which he couldn't be exactly sure. He waited until she turned out the light again, before laying down next to her. It wasn't like his erection had gotten any smaller in the meantime, no need complicating the night any further.

' _Joffrey Baratheon.'_ He repeated to himself. ' _Shouldn't be too difficult to find out where he lives. Even less difficult to teach him a lesson before heading into the shop.'_

Sandor pondered what that could be as his half sleepy host cozied up to him. He'd never spent a night in a bed with a woman he hadn't fucked before. Rarely even stayed the night when they did fuck.

' _Oh to hell with it.'_ He lifted up his left arm and scooped her in between his body and his arm, her bum warm against his thigh.

He was getting soft staying here, soft and comfortable. Two things that didn't serve him well. He would have to leave, it was inevitable. Not because he wanted to but because he wanted her to be safe. He knew Gregor would stop at nothing to get his money back, and to silence him if he had to. Him and everybody around him.

' _Revenge is a bitch.'_ he declared to himself as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was almost 11am when a familiar car pulled up to the shop. Sansa didn't even need to turn away from the radiator she was repairing to know it was Arya. She grabbed a cloth from her pocket and wiped off her hands, it wasn't like Arya to come around for a chat at the shop.

' _Must be official business.'_ Sansa thought.

When Arya got close enough Sansa greeted her, "Hey stranger! It's been a few days."

Her sister smiled, but it was only half a smile. A clear sign the little woman was stressed, busy and not in the mood for pleasantries. "We gotta talk about that dog of yours."

"You mean Lady?" Sansa offered, being facetious of course.

"Nope. I mean Ugly." Arya corrected, not getting the joke. "Where's his bike? I need to run his license plate."

"Don't you need a warrant for that kind of thing?" Sansa asked, affronted by the bruskness of her sister.

"Nope. Now which one is it?" The brunette looked around the shop, knowing it almost as well as her sister. "Oh well that was predictable." She walked over to the only bike in the shop.

Sansa threw her sister a questioning look.

"That he'd have a bike like that and that he's from Texas." Araya answered, writing down the license plate on a notepad.

"Could you tell me what in the seven hells is going on here?" Sansa's voice got higher.

"Your man is a dangerous man that's what this is about." There was a fear in Arya's eyes. "I'm sure Tormund told you about the trouble we were having down south? That man can never keep his mouth shut about those things."

Sansa nodded.

"Well, seems like there are some unsightly characters looking for somebody. Somebody matching the description of your disfigured man friend." Arya waited, judging Sansa's expression of disbelief before continuing. "I don't know what he did, and I don't give a fuck."

"He hasn't _done_ anything. He's been with me the whole time." Sansa said, defensive.

"He hasn't done anything in my jurisdiction, but that doesn't mean he hasn't been racking up some kind of a record somewhere else. You don't want to cross those men Sansa. You best get that man out of your house and out of this town."

"Why do you have to do this? Every guy I kind of like you have to go and do this!"

"Do what?"

"This!" Sansa yelled.

It was the sound of throat clearing that made the girls turn their heads. They didn't know how long Sandor had been standing there and what he had heard, just that he finally decided it was time he be seen.

"Speak of the devil." Aray said, walking toward him. "Have anything you want to tell me?" Arya asked him, approaching the much larger man without fear.

"Who are you again?" Sandor asked, in faux confusion. "Head injury you know, hard to remember shit."

"I bet it is." Arya spat, sneering at her opponent. Then her radio started up, "Arya 2121, there's a call of multiple fires at the Baratheon Ranch. Do you copy?"

She never took her eyes off of Sandor, "Yeah I copy. Be there in a sec." She narrowed her eyes at the big man.

"Well if you want to get something off your chest, anything at all, come by." Arya gave him one final glare before turning on her heel and leaving.

The Hound just grinned, waiting for her to leave. He turned his gaze to Sansa, who had her arms crossed in front of her, standing with her hip jutted out.

"So now you're mad at me?"

"I'm just confused." Sansa was unsure about how to broach the subject. "Are you running from something Sandor?" She came up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Just passing through." He said, attempting to quell the anger inside of him. He didn't care if the little Sheriff hated him. It was much more difficult to live with the look that Sansa's face now had. It was a mixture of disappointment and sadness.

* * *

The next two days passed in a similar fashion, a kind of professional kindness that ripped Sandor up. He hated to admit it, but it did. It was like there was some kind of distrust that had been planted between them, a wall that would be almost impossible to overcome. The only good thing that had come out of the last few days, was that the parts for his bike had come in. He'd be on his way soon, and all this would be a distant, distant memory.

"I'm headed to the store, do you need something?" came Sansa's voice from the other room.

"No, I'm ok." He answered, not wanting to burden her anymore than he already had.

Sandor went back to what he was doing, clearing some heavy parts from a store room. All the work he was doing were things she could surly do, but it would have taken her much more time and ingenuity. Some of these car parts weighed well over 50 lbs and they needed a big person to move them.

He was in the middle of moving one such part when he heard some big heavy pairs of footsteps coming his way.

"Wait in the office, no customers allowed in the shop." He said, not looking back to see who it was. The steps continued.

"I said, go wait in the office…" he finally turned and his intruders and got that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Well well brother, we've been looking for you all over." It was a voice he knew only too well, the voice of his brother Gregor.

Sandor needed to walk his brother out of here before Sansa came back, if there was one thing he could do, it would be to save her from any sort of misfortune. That was why the adrenaline rushed through him, why the fear set in. "Congratulations, it took you long enough."

The two men on either side of Gregor crossed their arms and shot him angry looks. Gregor always had goons, always had extra muscle to back him up.

"I had a little help." Gregor said. Seems you haven't made very many friends in your short time here."

' _Fucking Joffrey Baratheon'_ Sandor cursed to himself.

"You owe me some money brother, with interest of course."

"I bought myself out so to say. Can't abide by that business Gregor." Sandor moved toward his brother slightly, trying to figure out how he could get them out of the shop.

"You don't have a choice." Gregor said, narrowing his eyes at his brother, "You either get on board or you get dead."

The sound of a shotgun getting pumped turned everybody's attention from themselves to the left. Where Sansa stood, red hair flowing, a double-barreled shotgun pointed square at Gregor.

The mountain of a man chuckled, "Well well, what do we have here Sandor?"

Sandor shook his head, not thrilled that his brother had caught wind of his 'crush'. The last girl he'd had, Gregor had raped. He'd raped her and then had her disappear, Sandor never knew exactly what had happened. Though he had his suspicions.

"I think she'd look better on my cock than yours." Gregor continued, taking a few steps toward Sansa.

Sansa lowered the shotgun toward Gregor's crotch, "Even with a target that small I'm not gonna miss. Now leave!"

The giant man nodded, giving her a smirk and went back to his brother, "Anywhere you go I'll find you Sandor."

Gregor snapped his fingers, taking the goons with him out the front door. Sansa followed them with her shotgun, until she heard the ignition of their truck turn and the tires spin.

Sandor turned to her, "Sansa I…"

"Nope." She answered, turning the shotgun to him. "No more bullshit, you tell me what's going on here and you tell me now."

He admired her fire, loved the way she looked when she was angry. He'd have to come clean now, he'd have to tell her everything - to protect her. If they were lucky they could run, they could pack up and leave, keeping Gregor guessing...they could be free.

"I'll tell you everything if you put the gun down and we sit down in the house."

She raised an eyebrow in apprehension.

"It's a long story." He sighed, running his fingers through his long hair.

Sansa nodded, putting the gun to her side and following him out back to her home, curious as to what she just saw and how everything she knew would fit together.


	6. The Joys of Confession

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing George RR Martin makes me feel inferior in by my writing and my need to look like a sea captain ;-)

 **Note:** Well finally we made it to the delicious chapter, and I must say I'm still smiling about this one. Not too long before we end this story, it's been a nice ride. After this I promise I'll go back to Of Duty and Will. It's always the case with me that I start on and write any idea that comes to mind, but it sets me back in finishing stories in a timely manner. I'm so envious of writers who can write one story and stick to it.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Joys of Confession**

His beautiful captor dropped two huge ice cubes in two glasses and poured a healthy amount of Jack Daniels into each. She pushed one glass over to him and kept one for herself. Then leaning back on the couch and patting her shotgun, she nodded for him to begin.

Sandor sighed and closed his eyes a moment. Then taking a swig of his drink he looked at her again. Her crystal blue eyes were penetrating, warning him of the cost of continued lying.  
Sandor covered his mouth with his hand a moment and then did his best to begin.

"Well …. Uh … I don't even know where to start." He managed.

"From the beginning is usually best." Her words dripping with sarcasm.

He snorted in frustration. "I'm on the run. Have been for a year." He paused a moment to judge her expression, but got nothing he could work with. "All that shit going on down south that your sister keeps investigating was the work of Gregor. Of that I'm almost certain."

She drank deep from her glass, "And?"

"My brother and I run a business down in Houston. We import things so you don't have . . . issues with the authorities…" he scratched his head in an uncharacteristically nervous fashion, ". . .it's a kind of insurance if you will. Not totally legal, but not totally illegal either."

"Uh huh." Sansa said, clearly no impressed by his explanation.

' _Shit'_ he cursed to himself as he took another swig of his liquor. "So one night I go down to the docks and open the "wrong" container." Sandor shook his head, "There were young women and boys in there Sansa."

He could tell by the expression on her face that she wasn't following him.

"You know, sex slaves, human trafficking, what the fuck ever they call it." Sandor raised his voice without meaning to. "Gregor had changed the business without telling me."

Sansa's eyes were widening in fear and disgust. "What did you do then?"

"I took my share of the money and I left." He sat back on the couch, he knee only a few inches from Sansa's.

"You just left?" She cocked her head to the side. "You didn't report it to the police or try to do anything about it?" The anger in her voice was rising.

"If I had, Gregor wouldn't have just paid us a _friendly_ visit today. He would have killed all of us." He was serious now, "You see how your sister and her ginger backup move so fucking slow it hurts. They can't arrest anybody, or even get a fucking restraining order for that cunt of an ex you have. No, I'd rather take my own chances in freedom."

"You think being on the run is freedom? More like teetering at freedom's edge." Sansa threw up her hands in exasperation. "Running from some big bad boogie man isn't the answer Sandor, and it certainly isn't freedom." Her chest heaved up and down, showing her level of anger and frustration at the entire situation.

' _She's right._ ' Was all Sandor could think to himself as he eyed Sansa on the couch.

"We have to do something." She said, after a long pause.

"Not we." Sandor retorted, "Me. I have to do something, you'll not get tangled up in this."

"With Joffrey involved, consider me forever intertwined in your shit." She said with a half chuckle.

Sandor's eyes widened, she continued, "Yeah I heard a lot of what you two said in the shop. Enough to know that your brother was tipped off. The fire at the Baratheon ranch made the radio on my way to the shop. . . so . . ."

Sandor could only smile weakly and put his face in his hands. Yeah he'd started that fire as revenge for the concussion, but he hadn't wanted her to get involved, nor had he wanted to drag her into a feud where the logical end to it was death. No, he'd wanted to get his bike fixed, live with the temporary illusion that he could have a pretty, smart, handy woman love him for a bit - then leave.

' _And you can't even get that right.'_ He chastised himself.

Sansa put her hand on his leg, her cold expression from earlier giving way to a more conciliatory gaze. "So how serious do you reckon your brother is about getting this money? Can you just give it back to him and that's that?"

' _You are so innocent Little Bird,'_ Sandor chuckled to himself, ' _You can't even know how cute that is.'_

"The money is part of it." He started, "But he won't stop until all those who know about his little operation are dead or not talking anymore."

"And you are totally sure he's capable of killing? Some big boys are all bark and no bite." She said, her cute little smile back for the first time in days.

' _Well, since I'm pouring my fucking heart out here.'_ Sandor inhaled deeply, he'd never told anybody what he was about to tell her now, and the weight of it was more than he had expected it to be.

Barely making eye contact he started, "He did this to my fucking face when we were kids, so I'm pretty fucking sure he's ok to kill me and you and anybody else who stands in his way."

At this Sansa's eyelids fluttered a few extra times, processing his words much slower than they had come out of his mouth. She got on her knees and moved closer to him on the couch, getting closer to the burned side of his face. Sandor turned away, though not very effectively as she was on his bad side.

"He did this to you?" She asked, in a low voice, almost as if she were talking to herself.

"I don't need your pity." Sandor spat, clearly uncomfortable under her critical eye.

A moment passed, an uncomfortable moment for Sandor before she spoke, turning his face to look at her, "Oh I have no pity for you Sandor." Her beautiful blue eyes looking straight into his brown ones, "I'm just amazed."

Before he could collect his thoughts enough to reply she spoke again, "I'm amazed at how, after all that, you can be so kind to people. Kind, protective, even…"

Her voice trailed off and Sandor wasn't quite sure who made a move first, only that their lips met each other with equal force. She had straddled him where he sat on the couch with surprising speed, all the distance built up over the last two days between them gone. It was as if the fuse of their sexual tension had been lit and there was no putting it out. They were in a race to peel each other's shirts off, pulling them off the other person with surprising speed and precision, only barely breaking their kiss. For as much as he wanted to admire the cute little freckles that covered her chest, Sandor was extremely distracted by her little hands skillfully working at his belt and pants. Knowing he had to do something in the frenzy he managed, in what seemed like a very skillful move but was really just a lucky one, to unfasten her cute little white bra before before she pulled his jeans and underwear down to his ankles in one move and settled herself on the floor between his legs.

"Oh shit!" Sandor moaned as the little vixen wasted no time in capturing his cock with her mouth. She shot him a cheeky satisfied little grin as she experimented with just how much she could take in her mouth at once.

He didn't give a shit what she did or how she did it, just that she was doing it to him. She was also looking at him, not cringing away or trying to look at a point on the wall past him, this beautiful little beast was looking right at him. Moreover, she was enjoying him squirming under her strokes, reacting to her tongue on his most sensitive areas, groaning as she gently massaged his balls in her free hand. Oh this girl was dangerous, dangerously close to ending this little trist before it really began.

Reaching his hand out, Sandor took hold of her jaw stopping her mid stroke. Their eyes met and he couldn't help but take a moment to enjoy the view, her mouth barely containing his girth, her long white fingers firmly gripping him at the base. Yeah it made one pretty picture he wouldn't soon forget. Still maintaining eye contact and not moving her head, she rolled her tongue along his frenulum, flicking her slick mouth muscle over the tip of his cock and tasting the small bit of lubrication it had produced. It was that little look of savoring his taste that could have put him over the edge, could have had her wipe up her face and call it a night. But no, there were so many things he wanted to do to this little lady and tonight might be his only chance.

After taking a brief second to control his arousal he breathed, "Take off your clothes. I wanna see that cute little ass."

She complied, though somewhat reluctantly. Sansa released him from her mouth and used his legs to pick herself up from the floor. Artfully avoiding the coffee table, she took a few steps back so he could get a look at her, and look he did. Her thin frame was gifted with a fantastic set of rounded tits, their little pink nipples at full attention. The bit of freckles she had on her face, made an enticing trail down her neck and chest adding an extra beauty to what was already picture perfect. Sandor gripped his manhood and gave it a good stroke, waiting to see what was next.

Sansa kicked of her shoes and socks rather unceremoniously and began to undo her belt. She was clearly spurred on by lust in his eyes. Lust coursed through his veins and through his whole body actually, but it was clearly the most noticeable in his eyes and cock. Sandor smiled to see that she was definitely taking a good look at both as she slid her jeans over her thighs, turning slowly so she was sure to bend over with her bum toward him. The Hound couldn't help but exhale loudly, giving himself another stroke for good measure. When she turned back round to face him she was smiling, her little black thong barely covering anything worthwhile. He stroked himself again watching her eyes hungry devour his engorged cock. Her underwear were gone rather quickly, revealing the front of her hairless little labia and a very aroused clit. She blushed now, showing him a little more of her kitten side and a little less of her tiger side.

Sandor simply made a "come here" gesture with his hand, as he gently moved her shotgun out of range of their bodies and began to remove the back pillows from the couch, making it wider. He laid down now, the couch only just long enough to hold his entire body. Sansa eagerly straddled him at his hips again, running both her hands through his thick chest hair. He could feel her wetness rub on his cock and it was probably the best fucking thing in the world. As she made a motion to line him up with her entrance he grabbed her hips tightly, so that she couldn't move.

"No no." Sandor began, the most teasing way he knew how. "You don't get to ride that," he looked down toward his cock, "before you ride this." He flicked his tongue at her. She shot him a questioning look, "I gotta be sure you can handle it before I let you on it, Little Bird."

She raised an eyebrow in suspicion and curiosity, then moved herself to straddle his face. Sandor caught her milky thighs in his hands and gave her a good look from underneath. It was a fucking beautiful view. Her sweet dripping wet pussy lips hovering just over his face, her soft curves leading up to her rounded breasts and red hair framing everything. It wasn't a phrase Sandor used often, but he was one lucky guy. He ran his rough calloused fingers over her clit and pussy for good measure, he wanted to know his terrain before jumping into it. Her slight moan meant she liked the calloused rough feel of his fingers, he bet she'd really like the feeling of his stubble running across the inside of her thighs. He brought her pussy onto his tongue and began to lick, flick and play with the sweet sweet thing he had in front of him. Sandor had always loved the female anatomy, enjoyed touching it, kissing it, tasting it and of course, satisfying it. He didn't get the opportunity to indulge in his love too often though. Occasionally he'd bring a girl home for a night or two of sex, then he could explore and revel in her pleasure. On the nights where he would choose to simplify his life and spent some hours on a pretty whore he wouldn't do it at all. Those times were for his pleasure, not theirs. But Sansa was far from that, she was a little she wolf ready to explore her world.

It wasn't long at all before she was dragging her soft sweet lips over his tongue of her own volition. Using his nose and chin as different points to press on or rub against. The shuddering little moan that escaped her lips as she ran her clit over his stubbled chin was fucking priceless. He reached up from behind her thigh and took her breast in his hand. Her eyes were shut, she was moving up and down, impaling herself on his tongue and she barely noticed his grip, she was so focused on his mouth. The Hound was being a good boy, he knew he was, lapping up the sweet honey juices literally pouring out of her. Sansa could be the wettest little thing he'd ever put his paws on, and he wasn't going to let her go away unsatisfied.

She was gripping the arm of the couch now, firmly riding his face and pushing herself closer and closer to orgasim. Sandor punctuated the moment with a slap on her ass, which rang through the house with authority. She laughed then, never breaking her rhythm, eyes squeezed together tight. It wouldn't take her long now, he could feel her inner vaginal muscles clenching around his tongue and chin as she relentlessly dragged herself over him. He was so content to watch her from his intimate vantage point between her legs. She was so beautiful in this moment, sweaty and flushed. Her hair and her tits bouncing wildly as she went on the very serious and goal oriented task of finding her release. Then there it was, this cute little quiver followed by a flood of sweet thick juices covering his lips and beard, slowly seeping down toward his neck. Her little roar was so terribly delicious he could not describe it, she was shuddering, squeezing, squirming all around him. He was at the epicenter of her orgasim, the reason for her unbridled pleasure. She sat back on his chest, her breath labored, her body warm.

There was absolutely nothing more invigorating than having a woman cum all over your face, and Sandor had never been more ready to go. He slid her languid body toward his hips and then gently flipped her so she was on her back on the couch and he was between her knees. Sansa was still breathing hard, coming down from a vigerous warm up orgasim. He gave her a moment, stroking himself gently with one hand and running this other hand down her body. She was a pretty little treat, a delectable little morsel, and she was his. She was only just beginning to open her eyes as Sandor laid his body on top of her, kissing her neck, her taste still strong on his tongue. Sansa was coming back to him now, her fingers lacing themselves in his hair her hips bucking toward his own. He was rubbing himself against her well stimulated nub, hearing her breath hitch and encouraging himself from the little wanton gasps and screams escaping her lips.

It would be impossible to get around satisfying himself soon, his cock demanded it, begged for it as it pulsed and grew more between his legs. She was in for it, Sandor knew it was going to be a tight fit, and that made fucking her all that more enticing. He slid a hand between them and easily found the trail of wetness ending at the entrance of her pussy. The feeling of his head poised to enter made her open her eyes, and brought her hands to his face.

"I want you to look at me when we fuck." She said in a deep heady voice.

It only served to increase the blood flow to his already enviable erection, he liked it when she talked dirty, he liked hearing her curse. He also, very much liked the feeling of her pussy straining against him. His hips moving forward, his penis sheathing itself and her body racing to contain him. It squeezed, it pushed and it fought, but nothing it could do would stop him from filling her completely. She was pulling his hair too, but without knowing it he was almost sure.

"Oh fucking shit! Fuck Fuck!" she was singing it now for the heavens to hear and Sandor just couldn't get enough. She began to hungrily kiss his lips and around his mouth, giving him the naughty satisfaction that she liked the taste of her own juices. Oh she was a dirty little girl, and he was going to have fun with that. It had taken her a few minutes to get used to him, but now she was sliding herself on his cock in his rhythm. They were making sweet fucking music together, accentuated by the slapping of their bodies and make more eloquent by their collective grunts and moans. There was a sweet sensuality to their passion, rounded off by an animalistic desire to procreate.

Sandor suddenly turned Sansa on her side so one of her legs was between his and the other rested on his hip. Holding her hips in place he began to pump her sweet little body, pushing himself deeper than he had before. She was on a collision course now, her arms flailed around wildly trying to grab on to something, to brace herself from his invasion and from the explosion of feeling coursing through her body. Sandor adeptly dodged her hands and chuckled to himself when they found their home in the cushin of the couch. She was digging her fingers so deep he was sure she'd bust the fabric of the old thing. But he didn't care much, the couch wasn't going to last that much longer if he kept fucking her with this intensity anyway. You probably couldn't get the stains they were making on it get out too easily either.

He was close, very close and it was going to be a big one. Sandor bent over his woman now, feeling his hips move more rapidly, his breaths becoming more labored. He leaned down to her ear and whispered in that deep voice he knew most women liked, "Take it girl. Take it, Take…" It seemed that was enough to push them both over the edge, Sansa erupting in a full deep moan and Sandor shuddering, groaning and pushing his cock as far back in her as he could. Few things had been more satisfying in Sandor's life than this particular moment. There was no doubt they were crazy for each other, no doubt that it wasn't just some game. For some ridiculous and incomprehensible reason, Sansa wanted him, she needed him and she accepted him. With all this crazy bullshit, she still wanted to be a part of his life.

"Be honest." He said still on his forearms over her, cheek to cheek with the most gorgeous creature he'd ever laid eyes on. "All I had to do to get that, was to confess? Tell you everything I just told you?"

She smiled into his cheek, wiping some of her matted hair from her face. "Yup. I'd say you're pretty much an idiot for not confessing from the get go."

He raised off her decoupling her from his still half hard penis and sat back. He didn't have to will her to come over and lick him clean, she did it on her own. Her half lidded eyes and smirk telling him all he needed to know.

"Fuck girl. I was already falling in love with you. Now you're working on a marriage proposal."

She giggled at his words, the tip of his penis feeling it in the back of her throat as she licked her juices from him. She was a keeper, more than he deserved.

When she'd had her fill, he brought her between his body and the back of the couch, doing his best to keep her warm. Women always got cold after sex, and he didn't want her to shiver. She snuggled up to him, pressing her soft body against his hard one, throwing a long leg over his own.

"So how do we get rid of Gregor?" she asked, more to herself than to him.

"Way to kill my second erection." He interjected, he'd been looking forward to that.

"Shushhhh." she whispered, bringing a finger to his lips. Her eyes had that concentrated look as she bathed in his warmness.

"Will he come back tomorrow?" She asked, clearly formulating a plan.

"Yeah most likely with backup. He didn't expect you to pull a shotgun on him." Sandor chuckled at that, remembering the look on Gregor's face.

"Okay so, I'm going to make some calls and we're finally going to put this to rest." She said decisively.

"Explain." He said staring up at the ceiling.

At this point she rolled on top of him, so she could look him straight in the eye. "Look, we're both in a bit of a bind. You with your brother and me with Joff. You, me, this town. . . we've all had enough of their lies and intimidation." She paused to see if he was still with her, "So we're going to call the town together and run them out."

Sandor looked unmoved.

Sansa continued, "We know your brother is responsible for all the stuff down south, that's enough to put him away for a while. If we can get him intimidating us and all that, with Joff in toe, we could finally put them away for awhile anyway. Perhaps even a long while."

Sandor considered it for a moment.

"If we don't do something we'll never be really rid of this. Never be free." She pleaded. "It's better to try something than to just sit back and let it happen."

He exhaled deeply, not sure how to play it. The girl had a point, no question, but Gregor knew how to get out of trouble with his hands clean. He also had his eye on her, and that made him more nervous than he cared to admit. He would avoid talk to rape for now, and just stick to the base line. But he'd do anything to put Gregor away, if it meant holding on to this little she-wolf forever.

"What do we have to lose?" He said, not fully convinced but willing to try.

She kissed him on the lips. "Great, I'll call my cousin Jon tonight and see what we can arrange amongst the town. He's up for Mayor this year against Joff, there has to be something we can put together."

Her excitement was infectious, coursing through her little body at such a pace that Sandor could feel it in his own. It made his cock twitch, filled him with desire. Clearly she noticed as well, smiling as he hardened underneath her. They kissed again, longer this time and deeper than before. Sandor slowly sat up, so she was sitting on his lap facing him. He hugged her tighter to him, threatening to squeeze the air from her body. When their lips came apart, they sized each other up daring the other one to make the first move.

Sandor moved his hand between them, moving his cock into position right against her renewed wetness, waiting for her to meet him in the middle so to say. That was when her grin went from playful to devilish. Placing her hand over his, she moved it from her pussy back further so his tip brushed against her tightly sealed little ass hole. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, he gave her a look like he didn't believe her, that he was sure she'd made some kind of mistake.

"I wanna try." She said, her voice bordering on girlish. A flush covering her from cheeks to chest.

His whisper was almost inaudible, "I didn't know they made little freaks in Winterfell." That made Sansa smile and kiss him again.

It was going to be a long night, but at least if it was going to be his last one, Sandor had no doubt it was going to be a memorable.


End file.
